the same but different
by matchstix5
Summary: year 1774: Quinn is an adventurous young woman just come to America, escaping a cruel family life in England with her best friend,Sam. But what happens when she meets beautiful Native American Santana, who steals her heart? And Sam may not be what he seems to be...AU Quinntana, rated M cause i have a dirty mind.
1. Chapter 1

**Hai guys. This is my first-ever fic, and I'm kinda excited. I have like 3 front and back pages of this story handwritten, but I'm a really slow typer. Be patient with me please. Also, I'm pretty good with spelling and grammar, but I'm not perfect. Reviews and all that greatly appreciated. I mean, if no one reads it what's the point of continuing? Anyway…**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

The Same, But Different

I stepped out onto the upper deck, inhaling the salty sea air. I was on a ship headed towards the New World, seeking a new beginning with my childhood friend Sam. Who would've thought, me, Quinn Fabray, a merchant's daughter, would ever be on a ship for the adventure I had always sought? And with my best friend, no less. When I was eleven, and Sam was thirteen, he had looked at me and said, "Quinnie, one day I'm gonna take you away, out of England, on a grand adventure. We'll get married and have a house by the sea." For years that had been our dream, and there we were, half way across the ocean, on our way to fulfilling it.

Of course, I had always ignored the 'marry' part, Sam was like a brother to me. We had run and played in the cobble stone streets as children together, played house in the park, and nursed each other back to health when one of us was sick.

One day Sam just started acting differently towards me. He w would stare at me, with something in his eyes I couldn't decipher, and he would always have to be in contact with me. He would hold my hand, sling an arm across my shoulders, keep his hand at the small of my back. After about a week of this strange behavior, he came to my window late at night. He came in and told me he was in love with me, and wanted to spend the rest of his life with me.

He kissed me.

His kiss felt wrong, his tongue pushing at mine, his hands cupping my face. It felt like a brother kissing me. Everyone in the village knew we were like brother and sister, we even _looked _like we were related. It wasn't even considered improper when we were left alone together. Needless to say, I was confused by his behavior, so I did what I always did. I brushed it off, ignored it. The next day we acted as if nothing had happened.

He's still clingy, and no one thinks anything of it. They still see us as brother/sister, and it's normal for brothers to love their sisters, and hold their hands.

A touch on my waist brings me out of me reverie, making me jump.

"There you are. I was looking for you." He winds his arms around my middle.

"Sam. Stop." I say.

"why?" he asks. "we're going to get married anyway, you should get used to it. It's not indecent." he misinterprets my uneasiness. It's not the prospect of public affection making me uncomfortable, it's the person doing it. I don't want to marry Sam. I don't want his romantic advances. I _want_ to adventure like he had promised six years ago. I _want_ my best friend back.

We go back belowdecks, and I wander off to my cabin muttering something about seasickness. I fall asleep immediately, again ignoring Sam's behavior.

Sometime during the night, land had been spotted. We pulled up to shore, and the gangplank was lowered. I grabbed my trunk and lugged it down, finally stepping back onto solid ground. Sam came up behind me. "Our house is three miles up the coast, and a half mile inland. I'll see if we can ride with a farmer or something. He walked off, and 20 minutes later we were headed to our new home in a foreign land.

~Q~S~Q~S

I walked up the path to our new house. I t was small, but more than big enough for two people. It was made of logs, with a porch and a garden on the side. I ran inside to look around. living room in the front, kitchen, right next to that, the bathroom (so we could bring in hot water for baths) then in the very back my room, right next to Sam's. My room had a bed, (smaller than back home, but that's fine), a wardrobe, a small desk, and a loom. Confession: I don't know how to use a loom. Whenever Mother would try to teach me, I was daydreaming of running through the forest with the deer. I always blackmailed my maid into weaving cloths for my mother, threatening to tell about her relationship with the stable boy. I am not the ideal woman...

After a light dinner of cold meat, cheese, and bread, (I didn't feel like cooking) I told Sam I was going on a walk. " Don't go to far into the woods." He warned. " I've heard there are a bunch of savages running around in there, and I don't want you getting hurt or kidnapped."

I nodded placidly and walked out the door, heading straight into the woods. I guess you could say I've always had a bit of a rebellious streak. It's a part of me, I like my freedom. Although, it would always get me in trouble. Especially with Father...

~Q~S~Q~S

_I'm running through the mud,one hand holding my skirts up and the other holding a sack full of clothes and dripping into my eyes and blurring my vision, I will my legs to pump faster, anything to get me away fro there. From **Him.** _

_A roar rips through the air, and I startle and stumble. He's coming for me. "**Quinn!"** He screams. He's close. I force myself back to my feet and keep running. Just a few more yards to the gate, and I'll be lost in the crowd. _

_A few more yards to freedom._

_A hand latches onto my hair and yanks me back, onto the ground. I've been caught. Cold water seeps through my skirts, and I start shivering. He kicks me in the stomach, and starts dragging me back to the house. I kick and fight for a while, but give up eventually. I can never win against him. He's so big, and i'm a scrawny 12 year old girl with a silly dream as the only thing keeping me fighting for life. I was born to a rich, high society family, but I wasn't happy. Father was a monster, Mother could never stand up to him, nor should she, being a woman, and I... I don't know what I was. Sam was my only real friend, all the other children I was forced to play with would call me names, because I didn't play like they did. I played in mud, with bugs and frogs, and thought they were beautiful. They played with china dolls and tops, and always wanted more. _

_He dragged me into the kitchen,stripped me naked, and laid me face-down on the table. He tied my hands together, then bound them to the table leg, and did the same with my ankles. Then he sat on a chair, and poured himself a glass of whiskey. For the longest time, he sat there, sipping his liquor and staring at me, contemplating the best way to inflict the most pain without killing me. I had received Father's punishments before, but I had never done something this bad. Mother and Father had been fighting again, throwing things and yelling. I hated listening to it, and it happened at least every other day. So I decided to leave. I packed my bag, and started out through the halls, trying to be as quiet as possible. But, as fate would have it, I miscalculated and my bag nudged a vase off of its pedestal. It shattered, Father yelled, and I bolted._

_Finally, he decided, and rose from his chair, downing the last of his whiskey. He undid his belt, and folded it in half. I closed my eyes, and braced for the blow. It didn't come. after a bit, I craned my neck to try and see what he was doing. Then came the first blow, on my lower back, when I was completely unprepared. He kept going, each blow harder than the last, attacking my lower back and upper thighs. I don't remember ever having screamed , the belt must have cut into me, because I felt blood rolling down my sides onto the table. He kept going, the force from the belt splashing blood all over my back. When my backside went numb, and I stopped screaming, he walked outside, and I thought I was done. I lay there, unable to move, glad it was over. I was wrong. He came back, darkening the doorway, but I couldn't see all of him. He stalked over to the table, and showed me what he had in his hand: his white-hot branding iron._

_"Now, if you ever get the notion to run out on me again, people will know where to return you to." He said, in a sickly-sweet voice he only used on babies. The iron pressed into my left shoulder blade, and I jerked, screamed my throat raw, and blacked out._

~Q~S~Q~S

I flashed back to reality, and found myself deep in the woods, completely lost.


	2. Chapter 2

**Oh my god. People have read the first chapter. And I got a favorite. **

**Reviews/favorites greatly appreciated. Love you.**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

I have no idea where I am. I was so busy remembering that night, I wasn't paying attention to the turns I was taking, or landmarks, I could be 5 yards or 5 miles away from the house. I sit down on a stump and hope that Sam finds me before nightfall. Which, judging from the sun, is in just a couple of hours.

Of course, sitting here with nothing to do, I started to think. And my thoughts run rampant, from Artie the aforementioned stable boy to zinnias. I hope Sam gets here soon.

Sam. My best friend, my brother, the male version of me. He looks like a close relative, the hair color, the eyes, body type. He's a little taller than me, and his hair is longer than mine. It's down past his shoulders, and he keeps it tied in a horsetail. Mine is just down to my chin, another act of rebellion. Mother had kept my hair pinned up and under a bonnet, which I hated. One day, I decided I would give her a shock. I cut it with one of the kitchen knives, making sure it was too short to pin up. It actually looked good, and I've kept it like that ever since.

I notice a ladybug beetle scuttling across the stump, and I pick it up, watching it crawl over my fingers, exploring each one, before creeping to the tip of the middle one and flying away on its little wings, off on a little adventure. As my eyes track it across the sky, I notice something not a tree.

A woman stands half-hidden behind an oak, staring at me with wide, obsidian colored eyes. Her clothing is what catches my eye first. She's practically naked! She's clothed in what I assume to be deerskin, a short, tight, beaded top that exposes a tight, muscular belly and a skirt that ends mid-thigh, revealing long, beautifully sculpted legs. Second, I notice how beautiful she is. Her skin is smooth, the color of the mid-autumn sun shining through the russet leaves. Her hair is a black rivaling that of a Raven's feathers. She has high cheekbones, and full, pinkish lips that look soft as velvet.

I can't speak. My mouth is just opening and snapping closed, like a fish. She steps out from behind her tree, walking slowly and cautiously toward me.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Santana**

I watched her from behind a tree. She was very pretty, and I wondered why she was out here. Normally, the White people don't let their women outside by themselves. That thought made me nervous. If she wasn't alone, like I thought, that meant that she has a man, probably not far away. Father warned me against the White people, that they were dangerous and would kill me without a second thought. But as I watched her play with her little bug, I couldn't help but think she would never harm anyone. _Couldn't_ harm anyone. The bug crawled to the top of her finger, and the smile that adorned her face when it took to the air shone like the sun on a summer's day. Something stirred in my lower abdomen, and suddenly she was looking at me. Her eyes were huge, the color of fresh maple sap. Her hair was short and springy, a gold color I had never seen before. Her pink mouth was opening and closing, like she couldn't think of anything to say. I walked toward her, not wanting to scare her. I'm sure the White people had created scary tales about us too.

"Don't be scared." I murmured. "What are you doing out here?" I asked. I prepared to run if she screamed.

She seemed to find her voice, and spoke softly. "I-I got lost. I, um, I live… um… just outside the forest." So she was the girl I had seen running into the cabin at the east end of the forest. I knew people were moving in, so I wanted to go see what they looked like. Both of them had hair that strange gold color, I should have recognized her.

"I know where that is. I can walk you back, if you would like." I suggested.

"Yes, please." She stood and followed me into the trees.

~Q~S~Q~S

"What's your name?" I asked as I walked beside her. She was even more breathtaking up close.

"Santana" Beautiful. "yours?"

"Quinn" I said. "Quinn." She repeated slowly, as if testing it, seeing how she likes it. We continue walking. I look at the trees, and make a mental note to come out some night and climb the highest one I can find. A bird swoops through the trees, and as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. I look at the ground, and admire how the waning sunlight dances with the shadows of the leaves. I inhale, and I can almost taste the rich soil, the damp moss crawling over the heady scent of pine bark. I can hear squirrels and rabbits skittering across the undergrowth, and chittering to each other. I imagine that they can speak English, and are discussing what's for dinner.

"Well, mr. squirrel, shall we have acorns, or pinecones tonight?" asks.

"Actually, mrs. Squirrel, I found a mulberry bush by the creek this morning, absolutely bursting with fruit." Mr. squirrel replies. " and I thought, 'wouldn't it be lovely to have the Rabbitses over for supper, and we can sit and chat over a lovely mulberry pie.'"

I laughed at the silly Mr. and Mrs. Squirrel, and Santana looked at me curiously. I shook my head, still smiling, and she grinned back at me, not bothered in the least by my antics. We continue walking.

The sun low in the sky, we reach the house. She turns to me and takes my hands.

"I like you, Quinn. You're funny." She smiles. Her hands are as calloused as mine, but to me, they feel soft as silk.

I blush, and look away. I barely said anything to her, how can she think I'm funny?

~Q~S~Q~S

**Santana**

I stood there, holding her hands in mine, looking at her rosy cheeks, surprised that her hands weren't soft from sitting in all day, knitting or sewing, or some other useless thing White people forced their women to do. Her hands felt like she had been climbing trees and actually _working _all her life.

"Can…can we be friends?" I asked. I knew I was taking a risk, father wouldn't like me befriending a White person, but she seemed so…soft. Like she couldn't ever hurt me. She wasn't like the others. She was nice. The wonder on her face when we were walking, the fascination of the smallest things, the trees, the birds, the delighted laughter that spilled from her mouth as she watched squirrels playing in the bushes, it was all so childlike. It made me trust her, and I wanted to talk to her, learn everything about her, but at the same time I didn't want to interrupt her marveling. So I walked with her, content to watch how she would smile at the forest, and in return the forest kept showing her things to make her happy. It was almost as if the forest wanted to see her smile as much as I did.

She nodded, and pulled me into a hug. "I should go in now, it's getting dark" she whispered against my neck. I pulled back to look at her, nodded, and gave her a quick, friendly kiss on the lips before walking back into the forest, looking forward to seeing her again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Ok guys. First ever fic: getting praise in the reviews, favorites, followers, oh yeah. I am definitely liking this. I am going to continue this story, and start all the others floating around in my noodle, thanks to Catlover10808 and willowfriendly. (Nice names) my first reviewers. Love you. **

~Q~S~Q~S

I walked into the house, and found Sam asleep on the couch. If it weren't for Santana, I wouldn't have gotten home 'til morning. I snagged an apple from the kitchen and dragged myself into my room. I don't wanna undress. But I don't wanna sleep in my stays, I'll wake up sore. I sighed, dug my teeth into the apple, and started unlacing, unbuckling, untying, unhooking, really it's ridiculous how much clothing we have to wear.

After what seems like a week of taking off clothing, I'm in only my chemise. I push my teeth the rest of the way through the apple, letting it fall into my hand. I lie down on my bed, and just try to hold off my exhaustion while I eat. I don't sleep well on an empty stomach. I can't even think about my day, I'm so tired. Getting off that ship this morning seems like so long ago. I don't feel my eyes close, the apple core roll out of my hand; I fall into a peaceful sleep, and dream of raven-colored hair and talking squirrels.

~Q~S~Q~S

I wake up rather late, but Sam's still asleep so I don't feel too bad. I start on breakfast, corncakes and dried apples, and start to make a list of things to do in my head. Cooking: done. Cleaning: we just got here, nothing's dirty. Laundry: have to go into town for that. Sewing: have to buy fabric. Looks like I'm going into town today.

Sam walks into the kitchen and sits at the table. I set a plate down in front of him. "Morning." He grunts and starts eating. "Soo… first day of work today?" I asked. He's never really been a morning person.

"Mm. Yeah." He finishes his food, and stands, heading for the door. I catch up to him, and tell him I'm going into town with him. He nods and takes my hand, and I grab the laundry bag.

Once we're in town, Sam hugs me and walks off toward the blacksmith's shop. I look around, and notice a group of girls about my age with laundry bags. I speed up to catch up with them, and tug on the girl in back's sleeve. She turns to me and looks me up and down.

"Hello. You must be new in town; I've never seen you about before. Oh, I see you have laundry, we were just heading op to the lake, would you care to join us? "I nodded, a bit surprised someone so small has so much confidence in the way she carries herself.

"Wonderful! Girls we have a new friend!" The other three girls and one boy I failed to notice earlier, turn and look me up and down, much like the Little one had. "My name is Rachel Berry, that's Brittany," she pointed to a tall blonde girl, "that's Tina," she gestured to a pretty Asian girl, "this is Kurt" the boy with porcelain skin. " and that's Sugar." A girl with reddish hair and faerie-like features. "Well, we mustn't waste time. Let's get to the lake before it gets too hot" This girl seemed to be the leader of the little group, even though she was the smallest. I respect her for that. Most of the time, the smaller you are, the more often you're overlooked. This girl has asserted herself, and holds a confidence like that of a grown woman, head of an important household. I think that deserves respect. However, it could seem to others that she thinks herself superior, and that could cause problems. The girl Brittany seems nice; she directed a large, bright smile at me as we walked. Sugar I can already tell is wealthy and spoiled, but still humble enough to do laundry. Tina is quiet, but observant. One of those people that you'll forget she's there and maybe say something you shouldn't. If I ever feel the need for gossip, she's the one to go to. Kurt, I didn't need to analyze. He took it upon himself to be the one to talk to 'the new girl', and for that I was grateful.

"You're probably wondering why I'm here, with the girls, going to wash clothes" he said, "well, as you can tell, I'm not the work-hardened farm boy you'll find the rest of the boys have become. No, I've dedicated my time to helping my step-mother with the house work, and leaving the dirty stuff to my father and step-brother Finn. You see, my mother died from sickness and Finn's father died in the war, and thus widow joined widower in holy matrimony resulting in the Hudson-Hummel family."

"I'm sorry about your mother" I murmured, knowing he's probably heard it so many times it means almost nothing to him, but feeling compelled to say it anyway.

"Oh, don't be. It was so long ago… and I'm happy now." I like Kurt, he's very pleasant. We reach the lake, and I'm taken by the beauty of it. The water is so blue, and I can hear birds chirping at each other, the purple mountains in the far distance, I love it. We take out our laundry and start washing. Soon after, Rachel starts singing, then Kurt, and the others join in as well. It's brilliant. After that song ends, Kurt leads this time, and on a song I know. I join in, and the others look at me rather startled, but smile and keep singing.

After all of the laundry is finished, we part ways and I head home to hang all the wet clothes to dry. I start skipping, overcome with happiness that my first full day in America, and I've already made more friends than I had back home. As I skip along like a child, (which I pretty much am), I see a pretty little glade through the trees, filled with flowers. Now this is embarrassing, but I feel my face light up like a five-year old presented with cake. I drop my laundry bag and run into the forest, stopping at the edge of the clearing. I LOVE daisies! I fall to my knees and start to pick a few, but then I think: if I have them, no one else will. No one else will be able to enjoy the simple beauty that a flower can bring. I pick one, tuck it behind my ear, and continue on my way home.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Awww, Santana wasn't in this one. Yeah I know, but other fics I've read are just quinntana lurve, and while that's awesome, I want this to be an actual story, not just fluff. Other characters are important, and these WILL make reappearance. Also… with Quinn, I'm really kinda channeling Dianna, the Charlie side of Dianna. All the world is green. (That's a reference) love you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**OK chapter 4. Not much to say thanks for reviewing/following/favoriting. **

**Willowfriendly, It's set somewhere in the late spring-early summer of 1774. I chose that year because it's after the tea party but before the war, so I can focus more on the character plots than historical events. And yeah, maybe I will do something with Rachel…**

**Song for this chapter: strangers like me. I think I might organize a track for this.**

**Love you**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

That night, as I lay in bed, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned, and finally decided to get up and go tree-climbing like I promised myself I would. There's nothing better than the rush I get, standing twenty feet off the ground, jumping around like a deranged oversized squirrel. I put on a loose shirt with ties at the throat and sleeves rolled to the elbows, and a pair of brown knee breeches I had secretly made for myself, specifically for this purpose. I walk outside barefoot, and start running to warm my muscles up. I haven't done this in a while, so I start out slow. Weeks on a boat had made me soft, and I was determined to build that strength back up, and then some.

I started sneaking out of the house at nine years old, and I never really stopped. I had gained a lot from my nighttime excursions, such as: a jar full of buttons from the homeless man I befriended named Biscuit, a wooden duck carving from the barkeep, and a bottle of rose scented perfume from Lucinda the prostitute.

I come to the base of a medium-sized beech tree, with branches low enough for me to grab onto. I hoist myself up, reaching and stretching for branches, going higher and higher, feeling my arms start to protest. After not going out and 'playing' as I call it, three or four times a week, I guess I've gotten weak. Oh well. That's not going to stop me.

As I near the middle, I start to slide out further from the trunk, testing the branches before putting my full weight on them. The tree closest to this one is at least ten feet away, but up here the branches tangle and entwine. I brace myself, and jump to the other tree, landing in a crouch with my hands digging into the rough bark. I'm starting to relearn the ways of Tree Quinn, and it's all coming back fast. I stand, and step onto the next branch, and the next, circling the trunk, until I'm jumping to the next tree, and soon I'm running, jumping from branch to branch. The bark digs into my feet on some trees, on others it feels like smooth parchment. The branches snag at my hair and face, catching my clothes. The cool breeze ghosts through my hair, cooling the thin sheen of sweat I've worked up. I fly up, latch on to a branch above my head, and use my body to swing forward, releasing, and landing close to the trunk, clinging to it.

I'm breathing hard, and smiling until my cheeks hurt. My clothes stick to me, and beads of sweat roll down my back. Every muscle aches, and I take a moment to savor it.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Santana**

She walks out of her house, dressed in what seem to be men's clothes. She breaks into a run, heading straight into the woods. She runs silently, like a hunter, or someone who doesn't want to be caught.

What is she doing?

Is she running away? No, she doesn't have anything with her. Maybe she and the man she came with had a fight.

I wait a couple beats, and take off after her, my footfalls just as silent as hers. As soon as I'm in the area I saw her run into, I'm lost. She's gone! There's no way she could have gone far. I turn completely around, listening hard. A crow's hoarse caw. A small creature skittering through the bushes. A bird rustling up in the beech tree I'm standing next to. She's completely…gone. Oh god. What if someone took her? What if she got eaten by a bear? What if she…no. I'm overreacting. She's probably… rolling around in the grass with the deer, and laughing at the squirrels.

That bird in the beech tree rustles again, and I wish it would be silent so I can listen for Quinn. It rustles again, and I look up, searching for what must be two unnaturally oversized ospreys procreating in a tree in the middle of the night.

Oh my god it's Quinn. She's leaping from tree to tree like a flying squirrel. Actually she's quite graceful. She jumps, and lands three feet away on a branch about as wide as her feet, and with no hesitation leaps again. She's been doing this a long time. I think I may have underestimated her, writing her off as a soft white city-girl who's never done an ounce of real work in her spoiled life. No, this girl is wild with ambition and a lust for excitement. I follow her on the ground, catching brief glimpses of alabaster skin or sunshine colored hair through the leaves. Eventually she stops, breathing hard and rosy-cheeked. She stands there for a moment, hugging the tree. She slides to the ground, and lays there in a heap, eyes closed and a small upturning of her lips telling me she was just out here for fun, not a fight like I thought before.

Do I approach her? Or let her savor her moment of bliss?

Oh.

Too late.

~Q~S~Q~S

I am happy. I know, I just ran through trees, most other girls only get happy at the thought of new clothes and kissing boys, but this has made me happier than ANOTHER bone-crushing, lung collapsing, heart constricting corset could ever make me. Right now, sitting at the base of this tree, sweaty, out of breath, and sore, I'm ecstatic.

I open my eyes.

"Santana." I say, a lazy smile pulling on the corners of my mouth, greeting the shy girl. This is great! Now I have a friend with me. She walks forward timidly, and sits cross-legged in front of me.

"How did you know I was here?" I ask.

"I uh, was hunting, and saw you leave your house, and wanted to um, make sure you were okay." Aww, she was worried. If only she knew what I used to do at night. I run my hand down my face, wiping off sweat, dirt, and something that I think was a ladybug. I look at her, picking sticks and leaves out of my hair.

"I need a bath." She laughs, and stands up, extending her hand to me. I take it and stand. She leads me through the trees.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry, I've been slacking. Y'know… you guys are kinda making this hard on me. I told you I want reviews, not just to stroke my ego but to tell me if you like it, if I should continue, suggestions…? Come on. Anyway, chapter 5. Song: somewhere only we know (glee version, of course)**

**Love you**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

**Santana**

I pulled her off the ground and we started running through the trees, hands clasped. I led her further and further into the forest until we were nearing the edge. The trees led all the way up to the cliff, you couldn't tell there was a drop-off until you were right on top of it. I sped up, and she matched me stride for stride. As we came to the edge, I stopped, but her momentum kept her going.

I let go of her hand and pushed her off, watching her frightened face and sun-colored hair disappear off the side of the cliff.

~Q~S~Q~S

I shrieked, and flailed, but nothing was going to stop me from falling. My stomach seemed to be somewhere in my esophagus, and my stilled heart was somewhere swimming around with my brain. I fell for what seemed like days, but I hit the ground with Santana's laughter echoing through my conscious.

After I hit the ground, I kept falling, but slower. Oh my god. My body hit the ground so hard, my soul got knocked into the ground. And now I'm a soul, floating around under the ground. I try to move, but my limbs feel heavy, slow, and my vision is blurred.

Santana killed me. Why? What did I do? Is she punishing me for what my people did? Am I dying for my people's sins? Am I Jesus?

My head breaks the surface, and I take deep breaths, having been underwater for the last twenty seconds. I look up to see Santana standing on the cliff six feet above me. The look on my face she must have found amusing, because it brought on a fresh wave of deep belly laughter.

"You said you needed a bath!" she calls.

Well. This is embarrassing. _'no' _vengeful Quinn says_.' this will not go unpunished. You have yet to be bested by another at childish tricks, for you yourself are the definition of petty mischief.'_

As she was doubled over with laughter, I dragged my soggy behind out of the water, scaling the rock face until I was standing in front of her. While I waited for her to regain control, I started unlacing my breeches, and sliding them down my legs. She looked up, her face flushed, eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"Why are you taking your pants off?" she asks, still breathing hard.

"They're made of wool. I don't want to chafe." I reply evenly.

With that, I swing the soaked garment, hitting her square in the head. She slides to the side, her mouth forming a perfect 'o' of surprise. She regains her feet, and I wrap her in a big bear hug, soaking the rest of her.

"Quinn!" she squeals, trying to work her way free. No. I'm not having any of that. I twist the side, sending us both into the water. It's warm, I notice, from the sun during the day. It's a big lake, maybe half a mile across, but shallow. She resurfaces, but I stay under, still not done. The water is clear enough for me to see shapes, and I note that she turns a complete circle, looking for me. I swim around behind her, and kick off the bottom, bursting out of the water and slamming onto her back, pushing her into the water again.

We spend another hour in the water, splashing each other and swimming. When we get out, I can tell it's late, probably around one o'clock. We're both soaking wet, but my breeches are dry. I carry them in my left hand, the other in Santana's as we walk back to my house. I shiver a little, in nothing but a wet shirt that's clinging to my thighs. My eyelids feel heavy, and my feet start to drag. I can tell Santana's tired from the exertion, too. We're nowhere near the house, there's no way I'm going to make it. I stop, tugging on her hand. I think she knows what I'm going to say, because she nods and pulls me down onto the grass and curls up on her side. I snuggle up under her arm, soaking in her body heat in absence of a blanket. We fall asleep like that, the last thing registering in my brain is pinkish lips and onyx-colored doe eyes.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Santana**

My eyes open to a lightly tanned face smiling gently in her sleep. We're a tangle of limbs, and we're both still slightly damp. I can see the faintest hint of light on the horizon, and decide that she should get home before that man wakes to find her missing. I should get home before my father starts to miss me, too.

"Quinn" I whisper. I place a gentle kiss on her brow. Her face twitches. I kiss her cheek, and her nose scrunches up a little. Oh, I'm gonna have some fun with this. I start peppering her face with kisses, her cheeks, her jaw, her eyelids, nose, forehead, temples. Her face scrunches up, and she smiles, though her eyes stay closed. That's not enough. I brush a strand of hair out of the corner of her mouth. I lean in, aiming for her mouth, and at about halfway she surges forward and pecks me on the lips before rolling out of my arms and bouncing to her feet. Damn, how long was she awake?

"Come on, Sannie, you can't steal from me." She taunts. She extends her hand, and helps me up. We begin walking again, making our way back to her house. I look at her through the side of my eye, and she's looking out into the woods, away from me. I rush forward, kissing her exposed neck, and sprint ahead.

"Hey!" she yelps, and runs after me. I hear her getting closer, and then she stops. I look over my shoulder, and, yet again, she's gone. This girl. I swear. She's harder to track than an owl. I turn completely around, expecting her to pop out at any second. I start walking again, staying alert, listening hard and trying to see through the darkness. "Quinn," I call "I know you can hear me. Come out"

As I ducked under a low-hanging branch, a mass of pale skin and golden hair swung down and pressed soft lips against mine. Damn it! She got me. I giggle and stare at her, hanging upside down with her hair flying out, blood rushing to her face.

"Come on. It's getting…early. You're man-friend will start to miss you." She flipped down and put on her pants, which she had been carrying. She grabbed my hand and we walked again, the faint sunlight at our backs.

~Q~S~Q~S

I haven't had this much fun since I stole an entire pie from Mrs. Adamson. It's been a full night, tree climbing, night swimming, and kiss tag. I like kissing Santana, kissing my other friends back across the pond was always just for our parents, to show them we got along when I really hated all of them. I always saw the poor children kissing their friends, and I imagine this is what it felt like, real friendship and emotion behind it, not just a show.

We reached the house, and once again she turned to me and took my hands in hers.

"Meet me here again tonight." She whispers. I can't help but lean in and kiss her one more time before going back to the house and climbing in my window. I fall back into bed, and fall into a thick, dreamless sleep.

~Q~S~Q~S

_She stalks back to the village, her brain laden with new information. So, the new girl has made friends with a savage. Well, now Quinn can go play with the Indians and leave the rest of them alone. She just has to tell everyone about this new friendship before Quinn meets Finn, who is a sucker for a pretty face. No, she'll tell everyone, and they'll all shun Quinn, and she'll get to keep her friends and Finn all to herself. Who did she think she was? Just waltzing into their group and stealing the spotlight. She should be the center of attention, always! She was the best singer, She was marrying the prettiest boy in the village, and She didn't go on night-time frolics with Indians! Quinn has got to go, at any cost. She changed into her silk nightgown and sunk down onto her down comforter, plotting the best way to start the rumor, which would spread like wildfire. Oh, yes. Just a few choice words in the right set of ears, and Quinn will be out of Her life forever._


	6. Chapter 6

**That is more fuckin like it! 4 reviews in a few hours! I just wanna say if you ask questions I will reply, I'm on summer break I have nothing better to do. On that note,**

_**InvisibleImperfections81**_** : thank you, I did. **_**Rosariogarcia**_**: that's exactly the mood I was shooting for. And I was already planning on doing that, you just set it in stone. Thank you. **_**Strike-Kaminara-Sama**_**: Too late! **** but,um, I was just kinda thinking the drama is REALLY important, and I wanna introduce it early and just drop little chunks here and there, not completely focus the story on it, but y'know… it's there, and it'll build **_**slowwwly**_** . Thank you. **_**WillowFriendly:**_** umm… I wasn't planning on Daddy, but I have an equivalent. And uh, what makes you think it's Rachel? ( ͡º ͜ʖ ͡º) thank you. Keep 'em comin' guys**

**Love you.**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

My eyes flutter open in the early morning light, and I groan and roll over.

"_Meet me here again tonight"_

I sat up straight, last night's events flooding back, and igniting a light excitement in my chest. What does Santana have planned? I guess I'll find out tonight. I get up and dress, walking out to find Sam heading out the door. I call for him to wait, grab an apple, and walk out with him.

He puts his arm over my shoulders and squeezes lightly. "Going to town again, so soon? What are you up to today?" He smiles and waves to the farmers, already out sweating in their fields.

"I need cloth for some new clothes, and it's market day, so I'll probably pick up some vegetables, and I need bacon." I like bacon. "Would you like me to get anything particular? Anything you need?" He nods and asks for apples (I keep eating them all), cheese, and a peppermint stick. He's still got that sweet tooth. We part ways, and I head towards Market Street. As I walk, I notice a tall blond head, and walk over to say hi to Britney. As I near her, I see that the entire group is there, all of them talking and laughing.

"Hey, Quinn" Kurt says, the first to notice me awkwardly trying to get their attention. We all exchange greetings, and talk about little things, harvest and the weather. I notice Rachel giving me a few dirty looks, but I dismiss it. I'm in too good a mood to let her get me down. We walk into the market and continue talking and joking while we buy our various items. I excuse myself to go into the sweet shop to buy Sam's peppermint stick, and Britney accompanies me. We walk in and go to the counter, and I'm astounded by all the different confections, chocolates and caramels and candy apples, dried fruits and sugar sticks, peppermints and licorice. I'm literally a child in a candy store. A wiry blond man walks in from the back room, leaning on the counter in front of us.

"What can I do for you two lovely ladies?" he asks, flashing a bright smile.

"Hi daddy. This is my friend Quinn, she just moved here" Oh, so this is Mr… damn, what's her last name? God, he's looking at me. I have to say something. What's her last name?! I've been staring silently too long. He's going to think I'm stupid! Say something!

He extends his hand. "Hi, Quinn, I'm John Pierce. It's a pleasure." Pierce! Damn it, Quinn. I shake his hand, and return pleasantries. Brit and I end up leaving with bags full of sweets, Mr. Pierce claiming he couldn't charge full price for his baby girl and her friend. I got an entire bag of candy for the price of two sugar sticks. Having real friends is definitely not a bad thing.

When we return to the group, Brit and I start handing out sweets for everyone, to squeals of childish excitement. We talked and gossiped for a while longer, before saying our goodbyes and breaking off in different directions. I passed my little clearing of flowers again, and plucked one, tucking it behind my ear. Today has been a really good day. Sam will be happy about my discounted candies, I saw my friends, now I just have to wait until nightfall to see Santana again.

Santana. She really is the best friend I've ever had, besides Sam. She's sweet, and knows how to have fun. Real fun, not sitting inside and embroidering, like the other girls do. I can't help but wonder what she has planned for tonight. No doubt something special, or else she wouldn't have told me to meet her again. I blush lightly at the memory of last night, chasing each other through the forest and stealing kisses. I like Santana's kisses, they feel… not… wrong, like Sam's. Her face is soft, where his is scratchy. Her lips are velvety, where his are chapped. And… lately, Sam's been so busy with work, she's the only one I can really talk to. I like my friends from town, but I don't_ trust_ them. I trust Sannie, for some reason. I mean, I don't trust her not to push me into a lake, but that's not what I'm talking about.

I look out the window, and realize Sam will be home any minute now. I slouch into the kitchen and start gathering up ingredients for a stew. As I work, I pop a caramel in my mouth. I wonder if Santana has candy where she lives? I put a few pieces aside for tonight, and rough chop a potato. Sam walks in, and drops a kiss on the top of my head. Euch. He prattles on about work, and pulls out a little knife he made. I coo over it, (completely authentic, I really am proud of him), and he brings out from his pocket a small, slightly misshapen heart, on a chain. He slips it over my head, and I throw my arms around his neck, thanking him. And, as always, he takes it too far.

He pulls his head back, and presses his mouth against mine, turning a simple 'thank you' into unwanted sexual advances. _What do I do? Pulling away would hurt his feelings, and, like last time, he won't talk to me for a few days. Letting him do what he wants would make him think that it's okay. And it's not. Oh, whatever. I'm in too good a mood to argue._ As Sam scrapes my face up with his stubble, I can't help but compare him to Santana, again. Her kisses are friendly, soft. This is… _lusty_. That's it. He's mistaking lust for love. He pulls away, and I discreetly wipe his man-saliva off my face. We eat dinner, he looks happy, and I just feel… dirty. Guilty. Awkward. Like I somehow betrayed Santana. Which is ridiculous, because it's only a betrayal if you're married, or betrothed. Right?

After dinner, he goes into his room to do god knows what. I sit in the living room, sewing myself a new pair of breeches, much shorter than my knee-breeches, for mobility. These will come down to about mid-thigh, like Santana's skirt. My long shirt will probably completely cover them, making this highly inappropriate through the eyes of any 'respectable' woman. Oh well. What they don't know won't hurt them. The material was light, cotton dyed brown, much better than heavy wool. I threaded a strip of leather through the top, for ties, and sewed pockets on the inside.

Night fell, and Sam bid me good night. As soon as I heard his heavy man-snoring through the wall, I slipped on my new breeches and big shirt. I rolled the sleeves up to my elbows, and looked at myself in the mirror. I was right; the shirt completely covered my bottoms and made me look nude from the waist down. I wriggled through my window, and walked toward where Santana told me to meet her. I reached our place, and noted that I was early. She wasn't there yet. I walked around the perimeter of a tree, and squealed like a child when she swung down and kissed me, like I did yesterday to her.

"You're not the only one who can climb trees, you know." She flipped down, and gave me a hug. I rolled my eyes, but hugged her back anyway. Her hair is down, flowing freely over her shoulders. It really is the color of raven's feathers. She's wearing clothes the style as the first time I saw her, but without the beads, just strips of deer hide creating a decorative fringe. She grabbed my hand and started pulling me into the forest, towards the town. I followed, but didn't ask where we were going. She probably wouldn't tell me, and I like to be surprised.

After a few minutes of walking, she pulls me through the trees into a clearing. It's the daisy meadow! The one I pass going to and from town. She has a few furs piled on the ground, and a basket full of food. The moon provides enough light for me to see all of this, and it makes Santana's eyes shine, her hair ripple like a river.

She looks at me, and pulls me down onto the biggest fur. She has this look in her eyes, it makes my stomach jump around, and my heart stills for a second. It tells me that this is going to be a fun night.


	7. Chapter 7

**I forgot to do a song for the last chap. I think… 'Love story.' I know, I know, eww Taylor Swift, separate the art from the artist.**

_**Strike-Kaminara-Sama: **_**Thank you, I find you very supportive. It's nice to know you're enjoying it, and I hope to continue improving.**_** WillowFriendly**_** : let's find out, shall we? You two are becoming my favorite people, cause YOU ACTUALLY REVIEW. The fic I am currently reading, it has 579 reviews. I wanna get there. I wanna know what you're thinking, I NEED YOUR CRITICISMS. Song for this chap: 'in my life- a heart full of love' love you. Xoxo**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

"That's Orion" I say. We were lying on our backs, staring at the stars. She had pulled the basket over and dug out flatbread, sliced apples, and a clay pot of maple syrup. We dipped the apples, and talked. She told me about the time her brother got head-butted by a goat into a pile of fish guts, and I told her about the time Sam ate an entire apple pie and threw up into Lily Fink's bonnet, who, not knowing, put it on later, and cut off most of her hair because of it. We exchanged stories like that, and eventually just laid back, and I started pointing out constellations.

"… and that's Sagittarius. Oh! I almost forgot. I brought these for you." I pulled out an assortment of sweets from Britt's Dad's shop. I didn't know what she would like, so I brought one of everything. She pawed through the caramels and sugar sticks, chocolates and peppermints. She selected a small peppermint, and popped it into her mouth. Her brow furrowed.

"Mint?" she asked. I nodded. "Why make a candy out of it when you can just pick the leaves off the plant?" I shrugged. "Children like them"

Next she picked up a chocolate. She sniffed it. "What's this?" she asked. "Chocolate." I replied "What dreams and babies are made of." She gave me a rather skeptical look, until she tasted it. A flurry of emotions flickered across her face: confusion, surprise, childish excitement, bliss.

"I like that one." She declared.

"So do I" I laughed. I leaned over and wiped a smudge of the magical substance off the corner of her mouth, then stuck my finger in my mouth. I closed my eyes in mock rapture, and sigh, "dreams and babies." She laughs, a sound like fairy bells, and pulls me back down and rolls, pinning me under her.

"Oh, you wanna play? I grew up with boys!" I lift my hips up and push her to the side, flipping us again. I pin her wrists above her head and rest my shins on her hips so she can't escape. She wriggles around, but I know there's no way to escape. She soon realizes this, and stills. She gives a petulant sigh, and visibly gives up.

"Fine" she pouts. "let me up."

"Mmmm…. No."

"why?"

"Give me a good reason. Why should I? How do I know you're not going to attack me again?"

She squirms, and whines at the back of her throat. I lean in close and whisper "convince me" I pull back, and when she doesn't move, I bring my hands down to tickle her abdomen. She shrieks, and begs through her giggles for me to stop. "Convince me! Why should i?" I yell, still digging my fingers into her bare skin. She grabs my face with her newly freed hands, and pulls me down until my lips touch hers. I immediately stop tickle-torturing her, and slowly… melt. My lips start to reply to hers, and my eyes slide closed, everything washes away, and I just feel her mouth whispering against mine.

This kiss isn't our usual friendly mouse kisses. This feels like… it feels like she's trying to… _tell_ me something. This is like what I found Ashlie Fink and her now-husband doing in the hallway at that party. It feels… special. I have a beautiful, funny, strong, smart person kissing me, and sending liquid fire washing through my veins, in a moonlit meadow of daisies. This is something I will remember forever, whether it's part of something bigger or just another beautiful moment amidst the everyday hardships of life.

Her tongue pushed at my bottom lip, and I lost all muscle control. My body collapsed onto hers, and I'm sure she could feel my heart beating like a war drum. I had fairies darting around behind my eyelids, leaving streaks of vibrant color. My hands twisted in her hair, and it's just as soft as I expected. I open my mouth to let her in, and I taste apples, and maple, and chocolate, and… something I can't identify. Something distinctly… _Santana. _This is fantastic. This is something I want to do _all the time._ It's like a drug. If opium is half as potent as this, I can see why people get addicted.

Just as I was thinking that, _something _started swelling in my chest. Something fluffy and warm, like a well-loved pillow. It started thumping around like a moth, and growing; spreading. As the warmth started dripping down my arms and belly, it intensified in my chest until it started to burn. She caught my bottom lip between her teeth, and the slow burn started growing, too. My hands unwound from her hair, and started running down her face, her neck, over her taught stomach, tracing the muscle. Our breathing became ragged; Yes, _our breathing_. Somewhere during my somewhat fuzzy musings, we had become one person, our breaths synched as well as our hearts. The burning was now creeping up my throat, down to my fingertips. I could keep going, ignore the sweet fire Santana had lit in my heart, let it consume me; but if I did, I don't think I could ever stop. Even if I wanted to. Even if _she_ wanted me to.

I pulled back with a gasp, and leaned my forehead against hers. The slow burn dulled to the delicious heat from before, and I rolled off of her to snuggle into her side. I rested my head on her chest so I could look at her. She opened her mouth to speak, but I covered it with my hand, shaking my head. Right now, words would only ruin this, and I'd never been this happy. She nodded and curled around me, her breath tickling my neck. I don't know what this means for us, and right now I don't care. I'm happy, and there's always tomorrow. Tomorrow, we can talk. Tonight, we can soak in this euphoria.

And that's exactly what we do.

**~Q~S~Q~S**

'_**That was disgusting! Girls shouldn't kiss like that!**_**' she thought angrily as she stormed home. '**_**well, now at least I have more dirt stacked against that abominable slut. She has a perfectly good man for her, and yet she wastes time with her disgusting little savage. No doubt, she would pounce on Finn as well, given the chance.' **_**Her lip curls, and she slips in through her window. She changes back into her nightshift, and pads out to the front room where her father is still awake, reading his book. '**_**Daddy?**_**' she says sweetly. '**_**I was thinking… let's have a party. You know, for my engagement. We should celebrate, right?'**_** her father smiles at her. '**_**Of course, sweetie. Anything you want.' **_

_**~Q~S~Q~S**_

I'm rather proud of this chapter, no matter how cheesy and cliché. I hope you guys liked it.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Willowfriendly: **_**there will definitely be more. Probably better written, too. I'm such a cheeseball.**

_**Jenna01**_**: but evil is fun… **_**guestpersonwhoeverthefuckyouare:**_** I am making absolutely no promises. That would just ruin it! **

**Song for this chap: 'clarity'**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

_We run through the tall grasses, hand in hand, barefoot, carefree. I look over my shoulder, and she's grinning broadly, jumping through the grass to keep up with me. We fall to our knees in the sand, the cold ocean water washing op to my waist, the mist spraying my face. We roll onto our backs, her hair splaying around us. We stare up through the trees, and I spy a hawk circling above us. I roll over and kiss her upside-down, then pull her up and lead her through the hall into the kitchen. Mama sets a plate of cookies in front of us, and smiles warmly. I grab a still-warm cookie and hold it in front of Sannie's face, and she takes a bite. I kiss the melted chocolate off of her top lip, and laugh. We lay back again, the daisies looming tall above me. The water laps at our toes, and the hawk gives a shrill cry. The tall grass ripples in the breeze, and Mama ruffles my hair and places a hand on Sannie's shoulder. Sam grabs a cookie and shoves it in his mouth whole, and we all laugh. Sam and Sannie stand to hug each other, and my face lights with a smile. One of the daisy petals falls off and land on my nose. A playful seal bobs around in the water. The hawk circles out of sight. Thunder rattles the windows. The wind rips through the grass, sending debris flying. The water sloshes violently, dragging the seal back under the waves. All of the daisy petals fall off, leaving spiny stems reaching for a sun that's been shrouded by clouds. The hawk swoops down low over Santana and I, crying loudly. _

_Father slams the door open, and storms into the kitchen, sucking up all the warmth and light, like a void. He walks slowly to where Santana and I sit, my grip on her hand tightening. He yells, but I can't hear the words. The hawk screams again. The seal barks loudly. He grabs my arm tightly, and comes very close to my face. He yells again, his lips are moving , but I only catch the last word: __**wrong**__. He releases me roughly, and grabs Santana, pulling her up to stand beside him. He's still yelling, and I catch more words this time: __**Disgusting. Savage. Sin. **__Clouds swirl above the trees. The waves crash viciously over us. The wind rips the grass from the ground. Lightning strikes our meadow, lighting the daisy skeletons aflame. He throws Santana to the ground and kicks her. I shriek and throw myself at him, but Sam holds me back. What's he doing? Santana's hurt! He shakes his head sadly as I struggle against him. Father keeps striking Santana, and she eventually stops moving. Breathing. _

_I break and start crying, and Father walks over to me. He leans down to where I slump in Sam's arms and opens his mouth to speak. His eyes are bloodshot, he's been drinking. The fire consumes the meadow, the seal doesn't resurface, a tornado touches down, a giant oak plummets to the earth, shaking the ground beneath me. He pulls his hand back, and I brace for the blow._

~Q~S~Q~S

My eyes fly open, and I take a deep breath. What woke me? Why am I so terrified? Must have been a dream. I can never remember them. I'm tangled up in Santana, and laying on a bear pelt. Why? Oh…right. Oh… Oh!

My cheeks and neck get hot, and my eyes flick to the face of a sleeping Santana, mere inches from mine. What… was that? Just fun? No, it was too… heated. A fire like that can't burn without fuel. I slowly pull myself out of her grasp, and sit cross legged, looking at her. It's still dark, and the moon is still high overhead. I must've been asleep for only about an hour. Why had she kissed me like that? And why had I kissed her back? What if she… no, Quinn, stop. The only thing you can do right now is jump to conclusions and assume. Wait till she's awake, and we can talk it out. That's the smartest thing to do now.

~Q~S~Q~S

Okay, almost. Almost! No, it's too loose. so hard! Okay, pull pull pull. Ah, she's moving! No, don't roll over, you'll ruin it! Okay, keep going. Faster, before she wakes up! Aaaaannndd, done! Well, partly. I tie my ribbon around the bottom of her hair, securing the neat braid. I grab a daisy from the pile next to me, and start weaving it into the plaits. I had already used the ribbons from my candy bag to tie my hair into two pigtails, and wove a daisy crown for myself. I decided to put the flowers directly into her hair, so they don't fall out while she sleeps.

I work quickly, and sit back to admire my creation. Sigh. She IS very pretty. I like how dark her skin is, she's not pasty white like everyone else. Maybe… if… we can… well, we can still….part of me wants to continue what started last night, recapture that liquid silver running through my veins. And another part of me, the part that still fears father, screams that this is wrong and sinful. But… breaking this off would only result in both of us being sad, right? Unless… Santana doesn't really like me at all? She's just…using me. No. No! how could I even think that? Santana wouldn't lie to me, ever. Continuing this would result in… what? Tremendous joy? Heartbreak? War? A peace treaty (that actually works)? The most stable option is to break it off, stop now, no risk of heartbreak or war. Yes, I'd be sad at the loss of a (very) close friend, but it's early enough in our relationship that I'd probably get over it, she'd forget all about me, we go on with our lives. The latter in the aforementioned two halves of Quinn yells at me to stop right now, get up and leave forever. But, then again…

I have always had a rebellious streak.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Sorry, that was really short. I 'll make the next one a lot longer.**


	9. Chapter 9

_** : I had originally addressed this, but for some reason I cut it out. But I figure, Columbus 'discovered' America in 1492, and the Europeans had been coming and harassing the Natives ever since, and with this being set in 1774, after all the attempted treaties, a lot of the natives would have to have been able to speak English, and probably would have passed it on to their kids in case they ever had to communicate with the white people. Also, how the fuck would I write a story where the two main characters can't even talk to each other? Although… not a bad idea… maybe later.**_

_**Song for this chap.: dream a little dream**_

_**Love you.**_

_**~Q~S~Q~S **_

**Santana**

I'm cold. Where did Quinn go? My hand reaches out, seeking soft skin and body heat. Uuuuunngh. Where is she? I sit up, and rub the sleep from my eyes. She's a few feet away, standing on her head. Her hair is now in two pigtails, and I think I see daisies poking out from under her head. My head feels a little heavy, and I swing my hair around to see that it's been braided and woven with flowers. I smile, and crawl over to Quinn, who's facing away from me. I creep up and push her over. She lands on her knees and gives me a sour look. I tilt my head down a little and give her wide eyes, which melts her frown into a wry smile. I pull her into a warm kiss, reminiscent of last night. I still don't know why I kissed her like that. I just know that I like her, a lot, and I like kissing her. That's enough reason, right?

I pull back and place her crown back on her head, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. She giggles and wrinkles her nose, biting her tongue between her top teeth and bottom lip. It's so cute it makes me nervous. The sun is almost up; she should get back to her house before her man- Sam- wakes up. I tell her so, but she pulls me down to lay her head on my chest, mumbling "ten more minutes." We lay there, my arm around her shoulders, my hand tracing circles on her back. Her arms circle my waist, and her head tucks under my jaw. Right now, I'm happy.

"`Tana?"

"Yes?"

"… What…what does this…mean?"

I know what she's talking about. She's asking if this will change our friendship. How could it not? I sit up, and so does she.

"Well… we could stop right here, If you want. Be friends like before, and not do…_that _ever again. Or, we could see what happens. Stopping would be safest, no harm done. Seeing what happens… well, it's exactly that. Someone could get hurt. One of us could hurt the other, someone could find out, anything." I hope that she decides to see what happens. I really do like her, and I don't know if I could ever be 'just friends' with her. We were never 'just friends' in the first place. This has always been there, just under the surface. From the moment she slapped me with her wet trousers, I knew that I had found something great.

~Q~S~Q~S

She just used basically the same words I had when I was talking to myself. May as well follow the script.

"Well, most people would tell us to stop right here, before our eternal souls are damned." Her face falls the slightest bit. "…but, I _have _always been a bit of a rebel." She looks up and smiles, snaking her arms round my neck. I pull her in close, and lay us on our sides. She shuffles up a bit, and presses a kiss to my lips. I smile into it, and deepen it. That slow burn is completely skipped, and the raging fire ignites once more. It spreads much more quickly this time, again threatening to take me completely under. I take her bottom lip between my teeth, and suck lightly. A high-pitched whine escapes her throat, which only spurs me on. I release her lip, only to have her push her tongue into my mouth. My hands find their way to her torso, pressing against hard muscle under smooth skin. She has one hand on the back of my neck, her fingers twined in my hair, and the other is gripping the top of my short-breeches, her fingers curled under the fabric and pressing against my hip. She rolls on top of me, and I open my eyes. She's sitting atop me, and her hands come up to cup my face. She strokes my cheeks with her thumbs, and leans forward to press her forehead against mine. We stay like that for a while, our breaths mingling between us, until a drop of sunshine falls in my eye.

I squint against the beam attempting to turn my eye into a raisin, and roll atop Santana, then off her and bounce to my feet. I grab my empty candy bag and place the daisy crown inside it.

"I have to go. Now! Sam will be awake soon, if he isn't already." How could I be so stupid? I should have left a long time ago. Santana and I sprint through the woods, daisies flying out of her hair. We stop just before the trees opened up to the small field the house was on. I bent over double, breathing hard. My ribbons had fallen out, and my short hair was stuck to my neck and forehead. Santana was just as winded as me, but pulled me into a hug nonetheless. I leaned into her, feeling my heart start to slow a bit.

"Quinn?" we sprang apart and she looked at me with wide eyes. Sam's awake. I peered around the tree we were behind, and saw Sam wandering around in front of the house. I pushed Santana lightly away, pressing my lips against her hand. I mouthed 'meet me here tonight', and she turned and fled silently. I stepped out timidly, extremely aware of my disheveled appearance.

"Morning Sam" keep it casual, there's nothing strange about wandering around the forest, alone, in inappropriately short pants, at five o'clock in the morning. Damn it!

"Quinn, what are you doing? What are you wearing?! Get inside, before someone sees you!" I shuffled inside, head down, trying to come up with a believable lie. "What were you doing out there, Quinn? You could have gotten hurt! There are savages out there, they could have gotten you!" I flinched a little at his use of the derogatory term most would use to describe Santana. I wanted to tell him that they're not savage, they're people. Santana's already proven to be a better person than most of the 'sophisticated' people I know now. But that would start an argument, and that is the last thing I want right now.

"I was… berry picking!" okay, believable.

"Berry picking?"

"erm…yes. There were thousands!" okay. Not bad, I guess.

"What kind of berries?"

"…blueberries!"

"Blueberries? It's too early for blueberries." Damn.

"…they were strawberries! It's been so cold lately, they turned blue!" Quinn! Shut up! What are you saying?! That doesn't even make sense!

"Okay, give me some. Are they sweet?"

"…I…uhh…I ate them."

"You ate them? I thought you said there were thousands?" That's it. I'm dead.

"…yyyyyyyyyes. And now I have a terrible stomachache." I bent over a little bit, groaning and whimpering pathetically.

"Quinn, I've known you forever, I think I can tell when you're lying to me. And we will discuss this, but right now I'm going to be late for work." He grabs his coat and slings it over his shoulder, giving me a cold look before striding towards the door. Well. At least there wasn't an argument.

~Q~S~Q~S

"Ohh, I love parties!"

"Should we bring gifts?"

"I'm so happy for you! Congratulations!"

The Group (as I had started calling them-us) was at the pond washing clothes, and Rachel had just announced that there would be a party at her house in honor of her engagement to Finn Hudson, Kurt's step-brother. I've yet to meet Finn, but he must be either a complete push over, or extremely sharp witted to keep up with this little whirling dervish. I must say, I have mixed feelings about this. I like being around people, talking and such. But only people I like. And I don't care for dressing up, even though I have a nice dress at home. Sometimes funny things happen at parties. Like Sam throwing up in that girl's bonnet. That was hilarious. But I doubt it'll happen again. Whatever. I'm going. And I hope it'll be fun.

"Thank you, thank you. And yes, Sugar, presents are not mandatory but greatly appreciated. Oh, won't this be fun? You know, I've been planning my wedding since I was old enough to grasp what a marriage is, and I've no doubts that this will not fall short of my expectations. I do hope that all of you can make it, I would hate for any of my friends to be absent at such an important milestone on my path to becoming Mrs. Finn Hudson." She looks at me. "Quinn, as the newest addition to our little group here, I would like to formally extend the invitation to you especially, I would love to have you there, and get to know you much better. I feel as if we would be the closest of friends." Oh, she's so nice! And she's very polite. And she's just so- okay I can't. As much as I want to like this girl, there is something off about her. She's like that stomachache you get after eating too much candy. She is just sickly sweet.

"I would love to attend, Rachel. And, even though I only met you a week and a few days ago, I feel like we're already good friends." I know I just said I don't like her, but that's no reason to be rude.

~Q~S~Q~S

"Where were you, Quinn? What were you doing out there in the forest?" Sam's voice was firm, each word enunciated unusually clearly.

"I told you, Sam. I was berry picking." We had been arguing for the last twenty minutes, he would ask the same questions, and I would give the same little-white-lie answers.

"were you meeting someone? Are you having an affair?"

"Sam, how can I be having an affair if we aren't a couple?" despite my words, I felt a warm blush creep over my face, and all I could do was pray that he wouldn't notice.

He did.

"What's his name, Quinn?"

"Sam, there is no 'him'!" it's best to tell as little lies as possible, and that _is _true.

"Stop lying! Where are you going?"

"Taking a walk! The trees don't accuse me of adultery!"

"I'm going with you."

"No, Sam. Even if I do have someone else, which I don't, how would they know I'm going out right this minute? I'm just going to walk the forest paths, alone, and think."

He hesitated a moment, but saw the logic in my answer. "Fine." He muttered. "But don't think I'm going to just forget about this." I slammed the door behind me, and walked around to the back of the house. I stripped off my outer dress, my petticoats, stays, stockings, shoes, leaving me in my shift and short trousers, which I had taken to wearing under everything. I've always had an irrational fear of bugs crawling around under my skirts. Or small animals. Or people.

I walked far enough into the forest that I couldn't see the house anymore, and called into the trees, "Santanaaaaaa!" she always seems to be close around here. Worth a try. I really didn't have to wait long. About two minutes later, she burst through the shrubbery, a little out of breath and slightly pink in the face. She took one look at my face and held her arms open for me. I walked into them and rested my head on her shoulder, winding my arms tightly around her neck. She rubbed my back a little, which calmed me.

"What happened, Quinnie?" I smiled faintly at the nickname.

"Sam and I had a fight."

We were silent for a while, and then she leaned back to look me in the eye. "I think I know what we should do." She had _that look_ in her eyes, the one from yesterday. God, was that only yesterday? So much has happened. I came here for adventure, and I'm definitely getting my fill.

"Let's go home. I want you to meet my people."

~Q~S~Q~S

**As promised, this one was longer. I like to keep my people happy.**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Hey, guys. I think this is what you've all been waiting for. **_

_**Song for this chap: steady as the beating drum (that's not racist. I'm setting the mood.)**_

_**Love you.**_

_**~Q~S~Q~S**_

I have to say, I'm a little leery of this. I'm excited about meeting Santana's family, but I'm also afraid they won't like me, for obvious reasons. I mean, if a group of people I don't know came and took away my home of _forever_ and said it was theirs because their skin was a different color, and then had the _nerve_ to force their religion on me, I would be rather cross as well. Ha ha. No. I would be furious! I would… I don't even know what I would do. I would definitely hate every one of the people that forced their way into my home. I just hope that Santana's family is more forgiving than I.

We break the tree line, and I'm face to face with a little village of log cabins, not at all the tipi village I was expecting. The little city was bustling with movement, children running and playing with nets on sticks, tossing a ball from net to net, women with baskets full of crops balanced on their heads, men shaving a log into a canoe, it was much like the town just a little ways off to the east. Santana grasped my hand and pulled me to one of the cabins, off to the side and away from all of the movement. She went inside, and I followed after a moment of hesitation. No going back now.

"Santana! Where have you been?" I'm going to assume this is Santana's mother. I can see the resemblance, though she has a bit of gray in her hair and a few extra pounds on the hips. Her sharp eyes landed on me. "Who's this?" She eyed me up and down, and I felt exposed and self-conscious. For some reason, I wanted to please this woman, even though I just met her.

"M-my name is Quinn. It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am. "I still couldn't look her in the eye, so my eyes were examining the dirt floor, and my dirty bare feet. I wish Santana would have given me a little forewarning; I would have taken a bath. And brushed my hair. And wore _actual clothes._ I mean, honestly! I'm meeting Santana's mother for the first time, and I'm wearing a semi-clean chemise (with a black-rimmed hole in the elbow from where I tried to reach over a candle) and my short play-trousers. What she must think of me!

"Yes, it's very nice to meet you too, Quinn. My name is Maribel. Santana, you do realize this girl is white?"

"Yes, mama, I have eyes."

"Your father won't be happy."

"Oh, he'll love Quinn. She's nothing like the others. She's nice." She squeezed my hand. A tall, dark-skinned boy with a stripe of hair running the length of his head walked in, and stopped cold when he saw me.

"There's a white girl in our house." He announced.

"Thank you, Noah, I hadn't noticed." Santana's got a bit of a mouth with her family.

"Well…why?" He looked skeptical, and a bit confused, but I don't think he was going to kill me and then hang my scalp from his belt.

"She's my friend, and I wanted you to meet her. Well, not _you_, rather mama and papa and some of the village people." The boy looked mock affronted, and placed his hand on his heart. He had tattoos over the left side of his bare chest, which added considerably to his intimidation factor.

"Why shouldn't she meet me? I'm your best brother! I practically raised you!" Santana's mother smacked him on the back of the head with a wooden spoon. "You're a year older than her, Noah. And the only thing you taught her was to make trouble." Noah rubbed the back of his head, and turned back to Santana and me.

"You are definitely not my best brother. Come on Quinn, there's still much to see." As we walked back out of the cabin, I heard Noah call after us "I'm your _only _brother! And you know Father won't be happy you brought a_ white_ girl home!" We walked back out into the village, and Santana brought me over to another cabin, and we went inside. Inside sat an older woman, sewing a pair of moccasins.

"Hello, abuela. This is my friend Quinn." She nodded without looking up, and reached behind her for a bundle tied with leather strips. She handed this to me, and said, "Go get dressed. If you're going to be coming here often, you may as well look the part." She softened her somewhat cold words with a grandmotherly smile, and I accepted the bundle. Santana motioned to a corner of the cabin that had a cloth hanging from the ceiling. I went behind the curtain, and untied the parcel. It was a skirt and a top, both made from deerskin, with fringe and white beads on both. Very similar to what Santana usually wears. There was also a pair of moccasins. I dressed quickly, and the clothes fit snug, but not tight. Like they were made for me. How did Santana's 'abuela' know….? You know what? I'm not going to question it. Maybe Santana's grandmother just always has random sets of buckskin clothing just _lying around, _that just _happen _to be _exactly _my size.

I creeped out from behind the curtain, suddenly very aware of my newly bared (and rather pale) midriff. I couldn't help but compare my tummy to Santana's. Hers is tan, mine is never-seen-the-sunlight-pale. Hers is defined, the muscle almost tight against the skin. Mine is…flat, at least. I can kind of see muscle, but not nearly as hard or defined as hers. My hipbones push out a little more than hers, though. That's something, at least. I thank Santana's abuela, which she just waves off, and we leave.

"Santana, how did she know…?"

"I don't know. I've just decided not to question it."

Ha ha. We walk through the middle of the village, stopping to watch the kids run around and play. We sit on a bench, and just lay back and enjoy the sun. I let my head loll back, and my eyes close. A few minutes later, Santana taps my knee. I open my eyes, and lift my head. Oh. It wasn't Santana. A little girl, maybe three or four years old, standing front and center. She leans forward, bracing her hand on my knee, and runs her little fingers through my hair. I look at Santana, bewildered, and she's got the _cheekiest _grin plastered on her face, like she's trying not to laugh.

"She's never seen a white person before." She loses it, and laughs loudly. "Your face! You looked so confused! And a little scared. She's three, Quinn. She's not gonna hurt you." How am I supposed to know?! And my earlier thoughts regarding Noah and my scalp weren't helping, either. I pick the small child up and set her on my lap so she can reach better. Soon, a small crowd of children, ranging in age from about two to twelve are all surrounding me and fondling my head. Some are examining my hands, and the pale skin covering them, and I thing a couple of the older girls are braiding my hair, some are sitting beside or on me and just staring at my face. Santana is still laughing, and she begins running her hands through my hair as well.

"Santana I've known you for two weeks, you know what my hair feels like!" I flash back to last night, her hands tugging lightly on my hair, pulling me closer than I thought possible, and warm slightly. "Santana, you _know_ what my hair feels like" I repeat, in a lowered voice. She sobers for a second, then continues running her hand down my neck, over my collarbones, down my side, across the bared skin of my stomach. I shiver a little, and blush harder. The kids marvel at the way this _white person _can change colors, and I stand abruptly, placing the children crawling on my lap back on their feet. I take Santana's hand, and lead her away from the dissipating group of…admirers, let's call them. I take her all the way back into the trees, far enough I can no longer see or hear the village.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Santana**

We walk back into the forest, me still trying to contain my chuckles, and trying not to leer at Quinn in the buckskin. But her legs…. They're so long. And I can see how the muscle tightens and releases with everystep. I can tell they're strong, probably from her insane late night squirrel flying, and…there's nothing wrong with _looking_, right?

She turns, and looks right in my eyes. She takes a step forward, and I step back. Another step forward, another back. She keeps slowly moving forward, with this small half-smile that is starting to scare me. My back hits rough bark and I know there's nowhere to run. She keeps going forward, until she's pressed tight against me. I curse the fact that she's taller than me, and I have to look up at her. Her hand comes up to twine in my hair, then runs down my neck, over my collarbones, down my side, across the bared skin of my stomach. I shiver a little, and lick my lips. She does the same, her tongue a flash of pink sweeping over her bottom lip. She moves her face closer, till I can feel the heat of her breath against my lips. My breath is coming a little faster than usual, and I feel a little bit of heat coiling in my chest, and my hands start to sweat.

I press forward, and savor the feeling of her lips against mine. I turn my head to the side a little, so we don't bump noses, and the heat in my chest goes out like a candle, replaced be an even more delicious tingly cold. My palms are instantly dry, and my entire body prickles with cool. I run my hands over Quinn's stomach, which is hot to the touch. I nip at her upper lip, and she makes this…_sound._ I want to hear it again. I bite a little harder at her, and she whines. I swipe my tongue along her bottom lip, and she opens her mouth a little. I guess she's letting me in? I slide my tongue into her mouth, and she pushes hers against mine. I push harder, and she reciprocates. It becomes almost a dance, a fight for dominance. I detach, and start making my way down her jaw, to her neck. I bite lightly at her throat, and suck lightly where I can feel the blood pumping under her skin. She makes _that sound_ again, and I feel a brief moment of victory, before I start to want to hear it again. My hands, still cool, press under her top, where she's even warmer. She jumps a little at the unexpected cold, but I keep pushing up until her top is folding over her head, her arms above her head. I pull it completely off, and marvel at her, bared before me. She really is perfect.

I connect our lips again, and this time I let her take control, seeing as she is at a bit of a disadvantage. She does the same to me, and I press our bare bodies together, relishing my cold against her hot. Again, I start working my way down, over her neck, hitting _that spot_ again, just to hear her make _that noise _again. I keep going, down the space between her breasts, then on either side to give each one some attention. Her head falls back, and she moans. I like that sound, too. I want to hear it again. I pull away from her chest, and continue working downward. I get on my knees, and work down her tummy, aiming to kiss every inch of skin I can. I dip my tongue into her navel, and she twitches. Like, _her entire body _twitches. I curl my fingers into the material of her skirt, my knuckles pressing against her prominent hipbones.

I pull it down, and toss it into the trees.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Yes, i know. Abuela is not a cherokee word. it's spanish. let's pretend, shall we?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Ok, bear with me. First ever fic, remember? God, I'm more nervous than Santana about this.**

**Um, no song for this chapter. For obvious reasons. **

**Um, enjoy? I guess. Please. Tell me if you hate it.**

~Q~S~Q~S

The tree bark pressed roughly into my back. My head tilted back, and my lips parted. I felt a drop of sweat trickle over my temple. My temperature had risen several degrees, I'm sure. The only thing that was giving me the briefest relief was Santana's oddly cold hands. I breathed in, and could almost smell the piney woodsy scent that clung to her.

This is it.

There's no going back. This is the point of no return.

And it feels _so good_.

I had no idea that just having her kiss my neck could affect me so heavily. Her fingertips would ghost over my heated skin, leaving a chilly path, and setting each nerve on fire. It's so cold it burns. _And I just want more_. She would suck on my neck, and I would feel it all the way down to my feet. I can feel…sweat…or…_something_ dripping down my inner thighs. She gets down on her knees, and her tongue dips into my navel. It sends even more heat, if that's possible, straight down, and my entire body jerks. I'm too far gone to even be embarrassed. I just…need her. I don't even know what I'm waiting cool hands slide down my legs, leaving a trail of ice and taking my skirt. I step out, and it's thrown to the bushes. I mean, how does _this_ even work between two girls? What do we do?

Oh god. That's what.

A low moan escapes my mouth as she glides over my newly exposed continues south, exploring every inch with her mouth. She's made her way all the way down to my knees, and she picks one leg up and puts it over her shoulder. The cool air hits the…_sweat_ I mentioned, and makes me gasp. She starts kissing and biting her way up my inner thigh, at a pace that is frustratingly slow. My hips start moving on their own, and I still them, only to have them start rocking again the second my concentration slips. She reaches the apex of my thighs, and I think I blacked out for a second.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Santana**

With one of her legs over my shoulder, and my mouth…everywhere, I think it was a little too much for Q. I heard a dull thud as her head dropped back and smacked against the tree, and her leg buckled slightly. I chuckled into her, which made her knee falter even more. Her hands twisted into my hair, and pulled my head back slightly, so I was looking up at her. She was flushed, and breathing erratically, and still so beautiful. I scooted back a little, and she slid down until she was sitting, leaning against the tree. All this was a little overwhelming to me too. The high-pitched whines, whimpers, moans. It was encouraging me, at the very least, and getting me unbelievably excited at the most. I was really playing a game of trial and error: _this_ worked, _that_ did not. Most things did work, though. And _that _spot, right there, achieved the best reaction. I paid special attention to that spot.

I leaned forward and kissed her, and she moaned a little at tasting herself on my lips. I pulled back, and went back to where I was.

~Q~S~Q~S

I sat down so there was no more chance of me collapsing on top of Santana and snapping her neck, and she leaned forward between my legs and pressed her lips against mine. I groaned at the taste of something definitely _not_ sweat.

She went back to her place between my thighs, and I tossed my head back. The constant heat started leeching away from my fingers and toes, arms and legs, to curl up In my belly. It coiled tighter and tighter, and with just one more flick of Santana's tongue, it flung out in all directions. Every muscle in my body tensed, and immediately caught fire. Figuratively, of eyes closed tightly, I stopped breathing, I think my heart stopped, I saw fireworks. And In that one, blissful moment, everything was silent.

I came back down from the clouds, pulled her up to be level with me,(the slumped over heap that I was)and lazily started kissing along her collarbone, to say the 'thank you' my mouth couldn't remember how to. As I regained control of my limbs, I pushed her back onto her back, and crawled atop her.

~Q~S~Q~S

I sighed, and drew patterns lightly over Santana's still-slightly-damp chest. I was laying on her, and she was catching her breath. Both of us had very messed up hair, missing clothing, and slightly sore muscles. And I'm guessing Santana's voice would be a bit scratchier than usual. She was much more…_vocal_ than me. She ran her fingers through my hair, and chuckled. I gave her a questioning look.

"I guess we have the village children to thank for this." My face flushed.

"Oh, no." I grinned. "That was all you. You shouldn't have been touching me like that."

"they were doing it!"

"They're _children_ Santana! And what they were doing was innocent. There was no reason for you to be doing it too. You had intentions." She smiled devilishly.

"Maybe. But, it's getting late. We should go." We stand on still-shaky legs, and search around for our discarded clothing.

"Quinn!" she tosses my top at me, and I throw her moccasin back at her. Eventually, we're fully clothed, save one of Santana's moccasins, which I vaguely remember her kicking high up into the trees. Whatever. It'll make a nice house for a bird. As I was tugging my skirt up, I felt her fingers on my back. My shoulder, to be specific. She traced the outline of my…_brand_ with her fingertips.i stiffen slightly. Even after all these years, it's still a little tender. Her hand trails down to my lower back, just above my skirt, to run over the raised skin there, too.

"Quinn, what are all these?" she asks gently. I turn to look at her, and I guess the look in my eyes tells her I'm not ready to talk about it, because she just kisses my hand and nods.

"okay. Another time, then."

We walk back to the village, and into Santana's home. Her mother greets me warmly, and her brother goes so far as to even hug me. This feels more like a family than mine ever did. I eat dinner with Santana and family, and we talk and laugh and joke. Santana tosses a bean at Noah, who tosses a piece of bread back at her, a little more forcefully. She throws a rabbit bone at him, hitting him square in the chest, and he throws a corn cob back at her, but misses by a few inches and smacks me in the belly. They both go silent and round-eyed, but I just smile meanly and throw the cob back at him, hitting his face. As Santana laughs at his shocked expression, she gets a small handful of beans in the face too. She sobers, and looks at me.

"What! Why me?"

"It's your fault, too. You started it." I reply coolly.

And thus starts the impromptu wrestling match on the floor. Santana lunged at me, pushing me to the ground (but she was careful to not smack my head on the floor) and Noah sprang forward, pushing us both onto our sides and tickling both of us. Santana smacks him In the chest, and he smacks back. He sits on top of her, and pins her arms above her head with one hand and continues tickling her with the other. She squirms and tries to wriggle out, but he's got her held fast. I jump on his back and pull on his shoulders, causing him to fall back and release her. She immediately mirrors his earlier position and begins digging her fingers into his stomach, making him laugh and squeal like a little girl.

And this is how Santana's mother walks in on us, me crouching and holding Noah's hands above his head with both of mine, since he's so big, Santana sitting on him and tickling him, and him on his back making stressed pig noises and almost crying. She stops in the doorway, and all of us freeze. She opens her mouth, shakes her head, and walks back out. We exchange a glance, and Noah immediately breaks my hold and pushes me back, and rolls Santana off him. He pounces on me, and takes one side while Santana takes the other. They tickle me until tears are running down my face, my cheeks hurt from smiling, and throat is starting to close from laughter. My legs are kicking around and flailing, my hands are grabbing at theirs, and all I can think is: _this is fun. I love this. this is how family should be._

_~Q~S~Q~S_

**Okay. There it is. Their first experience, my first time writing one. I know I've bitched about reviews before, but I **_**need**_** them on this chapter especially. I mean, it's really up to you if there are any more sex scenes in this story. ;)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks, guys. Really. The support… thank you. **

**Oh, yeah, I have a review to address. Guest reviewer person: **_**Does Santana's parents know she is gay? **_**Yes, and no. yes they know she likes girls. No, they don't know she's gay. I don't know the Cherokee customs or values, but in this story Santana's people don't see gay or straight. Some boys like other boys and the same with girls. It's not a thing.**

**Love you.**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

I didn't get to see Santana nearly as much as I would've liked over the next few days. Things were hectic, to say the least. Sam was moving up at his work, he was now doing full metalwork projects for people, so he was coming and going at crazy hours, I was busy with helping Rachel and The Group with her party, and I needed to find my dress and press and alter it. Thanks to my nocturnal activities, I had lost some of that soft stuff around my waist (not that there was much to begin with) and gained quite a bit of muscle. I could now see the dips between my abdominals, and slight bumps on my upper arms. I was about one-sixth as strong as Santana, and that in itself is rather impressive.

In my 'other life', Rachel has been frantic with preparations, and The Group and I had helped as much as we could. The party was in sixteen hours, and we were just putting finishing touches on the decorations and preparing hors d'oeuvres. Kurt and I were slicing oranges and lemons for the punch, Tina and Sugar were tying big gaudy ribbons to the banister on the stairs, Brittany was painting a banner to say 'Finn and Rachel' (in rather tacky bright colors, but that's Brittany) and Rachel was running around and ordering people around in a voice that of someone twice her size.

As I slice my fourth or fifth orange, I feel a fresh sting where the juice gets into the scrapes from climbing trees with Santana. I wince a little and gently dab my palm with a cloth. I couldn't have been assigned a less painful job? Looking at the shallow cuts on my hand, I flash back to my last full night with Santana. After our little wrestling match with Noah, we had gone outside, where it was getting dark, and the entire village was gathered around a large fire. That was just another aspect of that night I'll never forget…

~Q~S~Q~S

_She pulled me through the throng of people, into the center circle. We sat on logs put around the fire pit, and she looked at me excitedly. The light from the fire threw shadows across half of her face, and cast the rest in a haunting orange. _

"_What is this?" I lean in close to be heard over the murmur of the crowd .I grasp her hand in mine, and peer into her half-shadowed face._

"_It's a full moon tonight." She answered simply. Okay, I guess I'll just have to wait and see._

_A few men walked to the edge of the gathering, and sat with drums and pipes, and started to beat out a steady rhythm. A circle quickly formed, and some of the villagers broke off from the crowd and started dancing around the fire. I watched as they spun, and bounced, and stepped. Slowly, the chatter of voices condensed into a steady chant, and then a song in a language I didn't understand. The drums were all beating a different rhythm: the biggest was a slow heartbeat, pounding just under the surface and tying everything together. The smaller ones were faster, tapping out delicate patterns and weaving an intricate knot. The pipes and flutes were tootling clear, high notes that soared above everything and swayed in the wind like tall grasses. And the topmost layer, the song that rose from the throats of all these people, brothers and sisters, mothers and sons, people that cared for each other and loved one another, it was indescribable. It was like my entire life, I've been holding my breath, and now, amidst all this friendship, devotion, passion, I was taking my first breaths. Opening my eyes to see that life is not always bad things that we have to slog through every day, but rather a gift that we can peel back the wrapping and savor, or toss aside to focus more on pathetic things like money and social status._

_I inhaled and tasted the clean air, smelling faintly of wood smoke, food, and Santana's piney-woodsy scent. I inhaled, and decided that this is what I want. I want to slip my fingers under the paper, and unwrap my gift. It's mine to take, is it not? I'm done being told what to do with it. Father isn't here. I can shed my inhibitions and be with Santana, here, without fear of being judged. I wouldn't have to hide anymore. I can finally be me, the dirt worshipping, tree-climbing, messy-haired, barefoot Quinn I've had to conceal for so long under dresses and pretty words._

_I can love and be loved._

_Santana's pulling on my shoulders shook me out of my reverie, and hauled me into the dancing. We bounced and twirled, jumped and danced and sang. Well, I hummed. Santana's voice was powerful, raspy and husky and sultry. She grabbed my hands in hers and we spun in circles, laughing and stumbling slightly when we went too fast. The heat from the fire warmed my legs, and the heat from Santana warmed the rest of me. I noticed a tall, strong, bare chested man making his way through the crowd, toward me and Santana. I halted mid-spin, and Santana turned to see what I was looking at. _

"_Father!" she sounded a bit nervous, and Noah and Santana's mother's comments came skittering back to me. The man stopped a few feet from where we stood, and eyed me up and down. I tightened my hold on Santana's hand. _

"_Santana." He said, addressing his daughter. "You have brought an outsider into our village. Our home."_

"_Papa, I can explain-" She stammered._

"_And I ask you this: Do you trust her?" He asked slowly, interrupting her attempted excuse._

_She nodded vigorously, "With my life." My insides twisted and went warm at that, and I smiled shyly._

_He nodded and his gaze came to rest on our joined hands. "Does she make you happy?" More nodding and big wide eyes from both of us. "…Do you love her?" She looked at me shyly from the corner of her eye. She nodded slowly. My eyes went wide, and my heart jumped spasmodically. She loves me! _

_He turned to me. "Do you love my daughter?" I nodded quickly, glancing at Santana. She relaxed visibly, and squeezed my hand. He nodded and smiled, and enveloped me into a firm but gentle hug. "Welcome to my family." He pulled Santana in as well, and I nearly started crying. Santana's father, the one person everyone was worried would judge me because of my skin and my people's decisions, had accepted me. I've known the man for all of ten minutes, and he's already surpassed my own father in acceptance. I don't want to go home._

_But I have to._

_After another hour of dancing and singing, Santana walks me back to my house. As we near the house, she slows and faces me. _

"_I meant what I said. Back there, to father? I meant every word." Her eyes glisten._

"_Me too. I love you, Santana." She grins broadly, and leans in for a kiss. When we break, I lean my forehead against hers, holding her hands in mine. This has become a thing between us, the holding both hands before saying goodbye. I don't want this to end. I want to go back and dance the night away with the girl I love. _

_But I can't. Not yet._

_We kiss again, for a ridiculous amount of time, until she pulls back and whispers "I love you too." I feel another surge of emotion, and commit this one perfect moment to memory. The full moon shining on her hair, the way her eyes glisten brightly, her lips a little puffy and red from mine, I tuck it all away. _

"_Thank you Santana. This has been the perfect night." I sigh, and she nods. _

"_I hope there are many more to come." She whispers. She gives me one last kiss, and scampers off…_

_~Q~S~Q~S_

"Ouch! Damn." Kurt looks at me, mildly alarmed. "I've cut myself" I mutter, watching the bead of blood drip down my finger. He hands me a cloth to wrap my finger with, and I go in search of Rachel for a proper bandage. She hands me one, again with that sickly sweet demeanor. I do not trust that girl. She's seemed to dislike me from the very beginning.

While I wrap my bloody hand, my thoughts returned to Santana and her village. Being there, experiencing that immense euphoria coupled with the obvious love those people have for each other, it's made me realize that they're just as civilized as us. Perhaps more people, they don't care for each other. Not like that. I've realized that we're all the same, we're all people. The only thing that separates us is the way we think. In that way, we're all different. In essence, when it comes down to it, we're all the same. But different.

~Q~S~Q~S

**P.s, going camping for six days. Don't expect an update soon. Sorry. I'll make it up, promise.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys. I'm getting kinda stuck. Suggestions are welcome. I have a vague idea of what to do, but I need time to think. I promised I would make it up to you for being gone so long, so I'm just going to give you sex. Also, I'm stopping the 'song for this chap' thing. It's just stupid. Love you all.**

**~Q~S~Q~S**

I slumped home after Rachel declared she was satisfied with everything, about eleven at night. I had been there for near about ten hours, and I was ready to relax. The little gnome was so _meticulous_ about every little thing! '_No, put the __**yellow**__ flowers there! The __**blue **__ones go there! No, there! Oh the ribbons are crooked, take it down and start again! Quinn! These orange slices are uneven. Fish them out and do it again.' _I had to re-sliceoranges four times. And she kept getting on me the most about everything. I got put on cleaning duty, so I had to get on my hands and knees in full skirts and scrub the steps. Which were already immaculate, but she made me do it twice. I didn't have any gloves, either, so my hands smarted and burned from the lye. I just want my bed. And some tea. And an apple.

I kept dragging my sleepy bum home, one fuzzy step at a time. My hair was disheveled, messily tied back, my dress was dirty from cleaning, my hand was wrapped in a bandage with blood seeping through it, and I could barely keep my eyes open. I want my bed. I can see the house by now, and it's still too far away. I seem to be walking slower; the house is getting further away. I'm so tired. I want my bed.

Eventually, weeks later, I reach the door. There's a scrap of parchment on the dining table, which I try to decipher. Sam's handwriting is spotty on a good day, and my current state of walking sleep is not helping.

_Quinn,_

_Have to stay over nite at shop. Be bak toomorow at noone._

_Lov, Sam._

Even in my haze I recognize how atrocious his spelling is. Well, good. Now I don't have to evade his attempts to spend time with me. I love Sam, with all my heart, and I like spending time ant talking with him, but he just doesn't comprehend when I try to hint politely that I want to just go to bed. In my room, I strip down to my short-trousers (I made a few more pairs, so I could wear them every day) and the deerskin top from Santana's grandmother. It's comfortable, not something I'll wake up sweaty and twisted up in. there's a loud scratching at my window, which startles me about a third as much than if was completely coherent. I scuttle warily over to the window, already pretty sure who it is.

I pull it open, and lean out for a kiss. She complies, and cups my face when we break. I smile groggily, and lean my forehead against hers. I love Santana, really I do. I would spend every minute with her if I could. But I do still want my bed.

"Why are you here?" I mumble.

"I wanted to see you." She's sweet.

"Mmm. I love you. Come inside."

"What about your ma- Sam?" she asks.

"He's not here. Come in. hurry up, 'mm sleepy."

She swings her legs over the sill and slides into my room, looking around timidly. I left her to look at my little knick-knacks, shiny rocks, and the rest to sit at my vanity. I started tugging my brush through my knotted hair, with jerky, ungraceful movements. She walked over and gently took the brush from my clumsy hands, and started pulling it through until my hair was smooth and soft again. She set the brush down, and picked me up like a child, with my legs around her waist and her arms locked at my back.

She carries me to my bed, sets me down flat, and pulls the covers up to my chin. I feel her slide in next to me, and I flip so I'm facing her. I wrap my arm around her torso and rest my head on her neck. Laying there, wrapped in her warmth and piney-woodsy scent, I fell asleep immediately, deeply, and happily.

~Q~S~Q~S

**Santana**

Quinn fell asleep almost immediately, and I couldn't help but watch her. With her face relaxed and smooth, she looked angelic. She smells like oranges. Her arm not wrapped around me lies between us, and I notice a blood-stained bandage bound around her hand. I wonder what happened. I hope it's not too bad. I lift her injured hand to my lips and brush a gentle kiss over it, knowing that's the best I can do to help it heal. I drifted off into sleep not long after.

~Q~S~Q~S

_She pushes me gently back onto the cool sheets, and stretches out on top of me, kissing me insistently. I kiss back just as hungrily, craving a feeling reminiscent of our fire and ice incident in the forest. Her hands run down my sides, trailing that sweet icy burn. I twist my fingers into her hair, pulling her further into me. Her hands trace across my lower abdomen, around my hips and over my upper thighs. She makes small circles over my skin, edging closer to right where I need her. The closer she gets, the less I can concentrate on kissing her. Her hand brushes over my center, and I buck up into her, searching for the pressure she's holding back on. She lets out a muffled "Augh" and pulls back, sitting up on me. I practically start whining and begging, pleading and whispering her name. I squirm under her, needing desperately for her to touch me. Why is she torturing me like this? Her left hand slides over my tummy, and my back arches at the sensation. Hot and cold, fire and ice, not enough._

_~Q~S~Q~S_

_**Santana**_

I wake up to Quinn wriggling around and whispering begs and pleads and my name. It's still dark out, I imagine it's sometime in the early morning. She's thrashing almost, bucking and twitching around. She must be having a dream. I roll over and press my face into the pillow, content to let her writhe. I peek back out to see if she's scared, maybe it's a nightmare. Her hand flies out and backhands me across the face. I grunt out "Augh" into the pillow, rubbing my tingling cheek. When the tingling subsides into a dull throb, I flip over on top of Quinn and attempt to restrain her. I grab her arms and pin them above her head, she starts wiggling and mumbling "please Santana!" I rub my free hand over her belly, trying to soothe her and maybe get her to wake up. She's warm, almost hot. She inhales sharply, and her eyes open.

"You were dreaming. Are you okay?"

~Q~S~Q~S

"You were dreaming. Are you okay?" Santana asks. She's sitting on top of me, pinning my arms above my head. I'm hot, almost sweating, and I can feel that my inner thighs are slick. Must have been a good dream. Why can I never remember them?

Oh. She's still waiting for an answer. Am I okay? My heart is beating fast, I'm uncomfortably warm, my short-pants are damp, and I have a curl of heat in my low abdomen begging for Santana's touch. No, I'm not okay.

But Santana can fix that, if she's willing.

I half sit up and seize her by her hair, pulling her against me and pressing my mouth against hers. She seems surprised at first, but loosens up and kisses back. I lay back, pulling her with me until she's flush against my chest. I roll so that I'm on top, and continue kissing down her neck. My hands run down to the hem of her top, and slide my fingers under. The top comes off, and I make a trail with my mouth between her breasts, over the prominent muscles I've become so fond of, and to the top of her seductively short, tight skirt. I scrape my fingernails lightly over her legs, feeling the goose bumps rise. I catch the material between my teeth, and pull down, keeping my eyes up to look at her. She's breathing through her mouth, her eyes half lidded. She's as wound up as I am. With the skirt off, she lays entirely bare to me.

I've always questioned the need for clothing. The naked human form is fascinating to me, beautiful even. Why cover it? Especially now, with Santana's bare form before me, I wish that clothing was not necessary, so I could look at her like this all the time. I push back up for one more kiss, which she deepens eagerly. My hands stroke down over her stomach to slick, wet skin. She pushes her hips forward to create friction, which I give freely. Tentatively, I push inside, and she winces a little, but after she gets used to it she returns to bliss. While my hand and her hips dance, I lean forward to place my mouth on her neck. I start gentle, placing butterfly kisses and nuzzling my cheek against her, but as she became more frantic, so did I. I started sucking on her neck, softly at first then hard enough to leave marks. I started using my body to help out my tiring arm, rocking against her at a pace that wasn't torturingly slow or painfully fast, just right in between. Just as I felt her start to tense, I sunk my teeth into the flesh where neck meets shoulder. She yelps, and then spirals into ecstasy.

I wait until she stops shaking and shuddering, her screams to stop reverberating off the walls, and gently pull out. I lie next to her and admire my marks, tracing my finger over them. There aren't many, and a couple are already starting to fade. Not the bite mark, though. That's going to be there for a few days, at least. Now, even though it'll be under her clothes, she'll bear a mark from me, claiming her as mine. Only mine.

She's caught her breath by now, and pounces on me with a dark gleam in her eyes.


	14. note (sad face)

**Hey there, my bagels! Bad news. I was reading a fic, and just as it was **_**getting good,**_** if you know what I mean, my mom walks in, so I minimize that tab, and we go out to the store so I shut the laptop everything still there. We come back, mom says she's going to sleep, me and my dad go back out to watch the perseid meteor shower. come back, see mom on laptop. She Shuts down laptop, looks at me straight in the eye**

**MOM: " we need to have a talk." **

**ME: Shit what? "what?" **

**MOM: "you left it open"**

**by this time I had completely forgotten I had a hidden fanfiction tab. Could've swore I closed it. I go up to my room, everything screaming at me "WHAT WAS IT?! WHAT DID YOU HAVE OPEN? WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID?! " next day, today, I turn on laptop, convo still fresh in my head, click "recently closed" first thing 'fanfiction.' Well, shit. I click on it and see I'm logged out. I NEVER LOG OUT. Ok. My mom found my fanfiction account. But the question is: did she read the very explicit s tory I had open? Why yes, yes she did. She comes home from work, everything's fine for a while, until like 15 mins ago.**

**MOM: I don't want you on that website anymore.**

**ME: okay. ( I know what she's talking about. There's no use playing dumb.)**

**MOM: you didn't ask to make an account. And I see you've been posting things, about your personal life, going camping and all that. (I know overreaction much? But that means she's found 'the same but diff.' also, not exact words, but you get it)**

**ME: …yeah, I write.**

**MOM: I wanna see it.**

**ME: what? No. (that means she didn't read it. Thank the lawd!)**

**MOM: I want to see it.**

**ME: how bout I just delete it?**

**MOM: why? Is it really that bad?**

**ME: (yes) no, it's just…mine. (personal. Lucky for me, she gets that.)**

**MOM: okay, delete it then (exit stage left)**

**Breakdown: my mom read the explicit story I was reading, freaks out mildly, now thinks I'm questioning my sexuality (her words: curious) wants me to delete everything. **

**End result: I WILL NOT. HELL NO. I PUT TOO MUCH INTO THIS. IMMA WAIT TIL SHE FORGETS ENTIRELY ABOUT THIS, AND I PROMISE YOU THIS: I WILL BE BACK. SHE DOESN'T KNOW MY PASSWORD, MY PEN NAME, OR THE NAME OF MY STORY. **

**She can't possibly know for sure if I've deleted anything, but I will not be writing for a while*. Imma still read, in incognito mode (which she also doesn't know about winky face) but I will write again in a couple weeks maybe. **

**SO, READERS, I QUESTION YOU THIS: WILL YOU WAIT FOR ME? DO YOU HAVE THE PATIENCE TO WAIT FOR THE PARTY? NO? okay. But it'll be out sometime in the future. WHETHER YOU WANT IT OR NOT.**

**Also, since I will now be just a humble reader**_**, tell me in the reviews what you guys are working on**_**. I'll read your stuff. And review. Cause I'm nice. And I have a few other things I'm writing, so those will be out too, in the future. **

**Love you guys. XOXO**

**-stix**

*** **_**not writing **_**means not posting. I will write, in my password protected word doc **** so get your asses ready for one long chapter. In a couple weeks.**


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